Eyes
by blackmonday
Summary: Why do the operatives hide their eyes in battle? And no, it's not because the cartoonists are too lazy to draw them in. There is always something deeper... Not as lame as it sounds. NO, I am NOT copying HIdden eyes by RequiemKie.
1. Why?

Ok, kids (I love the phrase, tis so funny), this is my fic eyes. Short and sweet. I wanted to make it longer, but I just really couldn't….

Disclaimer: I don't own KND. That belongs to Mr. Warburton. Period. No questions asked.

Eyes

When taking school pictures, the photographer always asks me, "Hey, kid, can you move your bangs for me. I want to see your pretty eyes." I roll my eyes in contempt and do as he says, just to get it over with. Right afterwards, my friends would ask me why I hide my eyes so much. They say they are very pretty. I reply with an, "I dunno" and get on with my life. 'Cause, honestly, I really don't know.

But I do think there _is_ a reason why we hide our eyes. Why the best of us choose to cover them. And I figure it's simply that: We wish to hide. As operatives in this elite organization, we realize that any hint of emotion shows weakness. Weakness is unacceptable. And thus we hide the very window to weakness: our eyes.

It is why cold and frank Numbuh 1 wears his sunglasses in preparation for a mission. It is how Numbuh 2's goggles have become a mask of jokes in his humiliation. It is the purpose of Numbuh 4's long bangs which cover his eyes in a desperate plea for impression. It is the reason Numbuh 5's cap holds so much importance. It is Numbuh 86's choice to part her hair at the side when she yells at a subordinate's insolence. And it is the cause that Ex-Numbuh 274 wishes never to show his face behind his side-swept hair. These items hold the motion.

But Numbuh 3, she is special. She does not fear the emotions like we do. She thrives on the emotion that drives her off the edge of the cliff and flying into the sunset. She lives on the fear simply because she has faith and simply because she loves. She is confident in her capabilities and knows that her friends will always stand beside her, no regrets. She has been liberated.

Numbuh 3's assurance gives me hope that someday, I will be able to show my eyes too.

So what'd ya think? It's one of my first fics, so I would like some feedback as to how I can improve my writing. Flames will be used to burn houses.


	2. Numbuh 1

Disclaimer: I don't own KND.

Welcome back to my continuing series of EYEs. The truth behind it all. (AH, a deep Numbuh 2 pun, help me!)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Numbuh 1

I walk up to the podium as I prepare to brief my colleagues of the upcoming mission. I skim through my notes while we wait for the arrival of Numbuh 86 as she will be accompanying us on this mission.

I adjust my sunglasses to cover my eyes before I lift my head to face the team. They also look up from their seats below and view me in my emotionless glory. I look into their eyes and I see that they deem me as someone who is confident, assured, and most of all, trustworthy. Oh, how sometimes I wish they knew the truth.

They don't know how frantic I get before a mission. For the few minutes I have waiting for them, I spend every one of them thinking of every possible way the mission could go wrong- Murphy's Law installed. I think about how dangerous it is and the many opportunities that occur that could get my team hurt. If any one of them was to come to harm in any way, it would all be on my shoulders. I couldn't bear the guilt that came from one of my friends. God, I'm such a worry-wart. I'm terrified of the missions.

But what if they _did_ know my feelings? They couldn't know my feelings. They'd lose their trust in me. I would not put my team under the danger of someone I could not trust with their safety. The mission would fail. All our missions would fail. The team work that flows through Sector V depends on the trust that my fellow operatives have in each other- in _me_. A loss of that degree is inexcusable as an officer in my position. Inexcusable.

And yet, through every mission that I've spent panicking, we've come out on top. Rarely there was a time when Sector V didn't complete the mission with flying colors. Maybe there's hope for us yet.

But there's always been hope. There's always some level of uncertainty that lingers in the doorway- the doorway of opportunity. The monsters may call my name, but with my team, I can do anything.

"What are you doin' ya stoopid boy? Get on weth et!" came the well known Irish accented voice.

My father always said I did thrive under pressure.

I once again adjusted my glasses and began to speak, never really confident about what lay ahead. _But forever willing to try it._

Believe it or not, there is actually a moral to this story. Now if only I could do this in English class, maybe I'd get a good grade. Lol.


	3. Numbuh 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own KND.**

**Welcome back to my continuing series of EYEs. The truth behind it all. (AH, a deep Numbuh 2 pun, help me!)**

**Thanks to all my reviewers. You've made me feel more passionate about these stories (and thus more lengthy). Thanks especially: damien (no real Pov, just a narrative), DanniB, lilyqueen777, JillRG, and ActionGal07!**

**This chappie was kinda based off of my life as a second/third grader. I was really fat in third grade. And I was always made fun of as a nerd in second and third grade… so yeah. I got over it (sorta).**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**

Numbuh 2

I sit in the library preparing the report I have to give in class mex tMonday. The report itself is already done, but I need something to spice it up. I'm thinking something along the lines of a few detailed diagrams and ROTFLMAO jokes.

Yeah, I know you think my jokes are lame. But that's only because I KNOW that my jokes are lame. I intend them to be. And every time one of my friends (or enemies) reprimands me for it, I continue to laugh. Cause you see, the jokes aren't really there to be funny.

You may be wondering "Why wouldn't Hoagie intend his jokes to be funny?" Honestly, who in their right mind would create jokes to be pieces of crap? But, you see, I'm not in my right mind (I'm in my left! –oh there I go again). They're really there just to mask my other insecurities.

You see, when I was in second grade, I was always made fun of. I remember there was this big mean bully- Lawson, I think was his name- that made fun of me because I was fat. Every day at lunch he would come up to me and say "You better stop eating, Hoagie, you're already too FAT! BlubberBoy! BlubberBoy!" Every day without fail.

Could you imagine how sick you would be of that? Some of you probably do live life like that and I feel your sympathies. I empathize with you.

Third grade, I received my first pair of goggles. I got them from Daddy. I thought they were the coolest things in the world. I wore them to picture day, formals, everywhere. But the most memorable day (not necessarily positively) was my first day of school.

I had my goggles on that morning. I was going to show up Lawson and his cronies because with my goggles, I was cool. I wasn't the bumbling fat kid. I was the cool fat kid. And fat or not, with these glasses I would dominate.

Unfortunately for me, things did not go as planned. Immediately as I got to school, I heard Lawson say, "Hey look guys, is that a giant fish coming this way. Hoagie looks like a giant fish!" He puffed his cheeks to look fatter and went _glub, glub_.

I started crying, right then and there. I didn't care if anyone could see me. And then I looked around. They didn't. Lawson wasn't teasing me about crying. I rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. It didn't look like I was crying. The goggles had masked it all up.

The symbolic goggles gave me confidence. They gave me a reason not to cry. Lawson never appeared scared me from then on. He could never see my emotion past my goggles. But that didn't mean those comments still didn't hurt.

He still bullies me today, calling me "fat nerd," and "wart-hog" due to a newly found splotch of pimples and freckles. But he sees that they don't affect me while I hide under my shaded goggles.

Do you now understand the purpose of my jokes and my goggles? They're there to mask my flaws- the flaws that America deems so purely evil and unworthy. So everytime I crack a joke, my mouth may be laughing, but someone just might see that my eyes are crying.

**This one was worse than Numbuh 1's. Don't worry, sorrowed fans, Numbuh 4's will be a lot better. A lot better. Reviews, not regrets.**


	4. Numbuh 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own KND**

**Author's Note: I am very disappointed in you all. 271 hits and only 7 reviews? I think I'm going to have to put a limit here. Not posting new chapters until I get 7 reviews per chapter. There. HA! I did it.**

Numbuh 4

I remember the first time I was bullied. It was way back in the first-grade when I had moved to Cleveland. It was the first time I truly felt afraid

I remember that earlier at 8 A.M. on the first day of school, I woke up chipper as chipper could get. Dad had cooked me waffles (with lots of yummy sugar) and gave me chocolate milk for breakfast (again, with lots of yummy sugar). Dad tousled my hair in satisfaction as he told me "My big son's going to school today- in America! Wait till the Aussies back home here that, eh?"

"Aw. Dad…"

"I love ya, son."

Obviously, this was back before I was who I am today. Just for clarification.

"Look what you've done with his hair, honey! You've messed it up." Commented my mother. "Here, love, lemme fix it for you." She grabbed some gel from the bathroom and swept it back- rich guy style.

"Aw, mum! Whadja do that for?" I whined. I liked my hair messy, I still do.

"Who wouldn't want to see that darling face of yours. It's a shame to hide it." She laughed.

"Yeah, you'll catch plenty of girls with those eyes of yours." Said Dad.

Now, believe it or not, I grinned at that comment. I was a real ladies man back then.

So, off to school I went with Dad. When I got there, I made three friends: Nigel Uno- the Brit that moved there the summer before; Hoagie Gilligan (or Gligan as I used to say)- who had lived in Cleveland since forever; and Abby Lincoln, who just moved here from France.

We were all sitting together at snack time when this group of _girls_ came to our group. I walked up to the prettiest one and smiled- Cynthia I think was her name. I was gonna get her to be my girlfriend.

"Hey. You wanna play on the mokey bars with me?" I said as I smiled my sweetest, most charming smile.

"'Ey Fanny!" she called in a horrible, un-sophisticatemed American accent, "Looks like we got a runt!"

"Stoopid boy probably couldn't reach the monkey bars ef he tried!" The girl named Fanny laughed.

"Fanny, Stop it!" Called Nigel, to my surprise. Apparantly, he knew this girl. Wouldn't know why he would want to talk to her though. Fanny wouldn't listen.

"You're a Stoopid Boy! You're a Stoopid Boy!" Cynthia sang.

"Tears welled up in my eyes. All the girls in the group were laughing at me.

"You know what?" said Fanny, "He's probably so stupid, he spells hat with a Q!"

"Hat does have a q in it! H-8-Q!" That was the worst spelling mistake of my life.

"Wow! You ARE that stupid!" cried one of the other girls.

I couldn't hold the tears back now, I was going to cry.

"Aww. The widdle baby's gonna cwy." Teased Cynthia, "The teaws awe gonna stain those pwetty eyes."

"He's short enough to be a baby!" cried another girl.

The girls had surrounded me and blocked off my friends from both me and the teacher- not that the cruddy adult would care anyways. I was trapped.

And thus- I snapped.

I shook my head violently and let my bangs fall into my face. I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped onto Cynthia. "Shaddup, ya stupid girl! You're nothing but a big bully, you beep "

The teacher heard this and reprimanded me immediately. I got in big trouble that day.

The next day, as during lunch, I got the nightmare of my life- Tommy.

"You been picking on my girlfriend?"

"Ya mean the sheila that called me short. She got what she deserved." I was the bad boy now.

"She don't deserve nuthin'. You on the other hand, little runt." He picked me up with his massive bulk and got real close. He shoved my hair away from my eyes. I was so scared. "You're gonna get it." He threw me up to punch me when…

"Hyah!" came Nigel bursting out of thin air beating the bully to a pulp. Abby and Hoagie ran to catch me from hitting the ground. The four of us surrounded him and well, you know what happens to bullies who mess with Numbuh 4 and his pals!

Even though we beat him, I was still scared. Every time I simply saw Tommy, I would hide behind the closest person, who was usually Nigel. Nigel told me about this secret kid police thing that Abby's sister was in that would protect me from bullies in the shadows. I agreed to it, but still have a fear of bullies today. So every time I faced a bully, I let my bangs fall to my eyes. I wouldn't show my oppressor fear! I wouldn't not show that I remembered Cynthia. I would be invincible.

**And that's the story of Numbuh 4. Now I'm starting to think that Numbuh 2's is better after all… Hmmmm… Reviews Please. I'm quite short on them. **


	5. Numbuh 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own KND**

**AN: Sorry I haven't updated in a while…It was hard coming up with Numbuh 5's story simply because it had already been put down in Operation Maurice… Yeah, it's harder with all the Mythology you have to put into a story… and there's the fact that school's being a buttface… So here goes…**

**Oh yeah… forgot to mention. To see this story. I don't really view the cap as Abigail's shield, but rather, the Cree inside the cap. Because Cree is the cap. I know that sounds funky, but bear with me.**

Numbuh 5

I remember that second mission. It felt like me, Cree, and Maurice versus the world. I remember the spinning, and the kicking, and the fighting. You know what I'm talking about- the Kids Next Door.

Let me tell you how it all started for me. I was only a baby then, barely as old as Wally's little brother Joey when Cree joined the KND. Daddy told me that every night for the next eight years, Cree came home the most livid story teller and action girl on the face of the planet. He even told me that when Mommy and Daddy were really tired, Cree was the one who told me my bedtime stories and sung me to sleep.

When I was four and still in France, she told me a story that would change my life forever.

_Flashback_

"_What's the story now, Cree?"_

"_It's the special story…"_

"_You mean-" I gasped in glee._

"_It's the one about the kid superheroes." She said mystically._

_I jumped out of the covers. "Someday, I wanna be a kid superhero, and I wanna save the world from- What do you save the world from again?"_

_She laughed that silly laugh of hers and she whispered, "If you lay back down, I'll tell you. But you have to promise never to tell anyone about this. This is our secret. You promise?"_

_I nodded my head in expectancy and she began her story._

_"A long time ago, there was once a time when kids ruled the earth. All they did was play, play and play. But they needed someone to help them play and reach those high shelves that no kid could ever reach (for they were so high)." She measured higher than I could ever imagine with her hands. "The kids created… the adults._

_"At first, the adults were cool to have around, and they worked for the kids. But one day, all they wanted to do was work, work, and work. So the adults took over the world!" She began speaking frantically. "They made the children go to school, and eat the forbidden vegetables, and all sorts of evil things._

_"And that's when a group of kids rose up against the adults to fight for all kids' rights of candy, TV, and playtime. Forever, they continued through the ages fighting for those kids in need of a teddy bear, craving for chocolate, and pining for their video games." She stopped short. "The end."_

_"That's it?" I asked. I wanted more. "That was soooooooo cool. But is that it?"_

_"Not really, Abby. The story still goes on to this day, each kid in the group forming a legend of his or her own, making their mark on the Book of KND." She gasped._

_"KND. Those are the things on that little tree house…" It was my turn to gasp. "Cree, are you a-a… kid superhero?"_

_She smiled sweetly and put her nose to mine. "Can you keep a secret?"_

_I nodded as fast as humanly possible, and maybe faster._

_"Then, repeat after me. I, Abigail-"_

_"But you're not Abigail! That's my name."_

_"That's why you have to repeat after me."_

_"Oh!"_

_"I Abigail,"_

_"I Abigail,"_

_"Swear to defend the rights of kids,"_

"_Swear to defend the rights of kids,"_

_"And keep to their safety and honor"_

_"By keeping Cree's identity a secret"_

"_By keeping Cree's identity a secret" It was funny hearing Cree talk about herself in the third person._

_"And calling us for help when a kid is in need."_

"_And calling us for help when a kid is in need." I thought for a moment. "What do you mean by identity?"_

"_Well, in the KND, we call ourselves by numbers. Like my number is Numbuh 11."_

"_Does that mean I have to call you Numbuh 11?"_

"_No. Not with Mom and Dad. Just when I'm in my club. And you'll know when to call me. Believe me, it's in your blood." She poked at my heart and started tickling me. And we laughed the whole night on._

Then, one day, Cree came home with a red vaseball cap. She told daddy that one of the kids at school had given it to her as a birthday present. She treasured it like it was the most important thing in the world. She had gone through many adventures capturing Stickybeard and defeating Father with it, just like I had. The scars from the past events were embedded on the cap, and she had patched in a sticker or two about her adventures.

After that came the time when Nigel and I were first sucked into the KND universe. She had approached me and Nigel while we were playing in his backyard. She asked if we wanted to go into the tree house with her. Now considering the numerous times we had attempted to sneak into the tree house, this was a blessing from heaven. We almost succeeded once, too.

_Flashback_

_Cree covered our eyes with her vaseball cap. She led us down a corridor, and into what felt like an elevator. She removed the cap and Nigel and me widened our eyes in awe._

_There was bubble gum all over the place" Gum machines on the walls, on the couches, on the TV. There was a giant computer TV monitor right across from us and a U shaped couch thing in the middle of the room. In the center of the U shaped couch was a cone shaped volcano that Cree later told me was a hologram projector. There were tons of computers everywhere (my friend Hoagie would've loved it). And there were the latest video games and movies on a giant shelf. _

_Nigel was the one able to speak first "**This** is your **tree house**." And then he fainted._

_When he woke up in the med ward, we got the chance to meet another of the greatest operatives in KND history- Maurice. He was the second-in-command to Cree and the cutest boy on the block. _

"_Nigel, Abby, welcome to the KND." I swear, Nigel almost fainted again. He had also heard about it from a few cousins of his in England. "You two have been chosen to join us among the legions of the fight against adult tyranny."_

_We had no idea what that meant, but we weren't going to show it. We were still amazed about being **in** the tree house._

_He clarified, "It means you're in."_

We trained in the Arctic base that summer and came out as juniors in the KND world. Because of our age, we wouldn't be receiving our official ranks until next year. We were lucky though, if it weren't for our abilities (and a few string pulling from Cree) we wouldn't have gotten in that early.

I was stationed in Sector V while Nigel was relocated to global command for more training. Turns out, it was a good thing. I didn't get that sort of training for leadership till the year after.

Then there was the Maurice Chicken Pox mission. I felt so honored when Cree gave me that cap, but there was a sad look in her eyes too, as if she knew she was going to leave. At that age, I couldn't understand that. But when she turned thirteen, I saw the monster she'd become.

_Flashback_

_I entered Cree's room in search of new KND tactics advice (that homework was hard) and found her crying instead._

"_Cree, why are you sad? Tomorrow's your birthday." I suddenly realized the importance of the words, "Tomorrow's your thirteenth birthday."_

_She nodded to me and stopped her tears. She put on a brave front and spoke to me, sister to sister. "Abby, there's something you have to understand. I know your instructors have told you that teenagers are evil and work for the adults as apprentices, and they are evil. But I will become one and someday you will too. That's why I have you Abby. Tomorrow, I will become that said monster and it will be up to you to defeat me. I have taught you everything I know so that you can continue the fight and bring me down as a teenager. Tomorrow, I will attempt to escape, and I very well might. You must control me from it. Keep my cap, Abby. Let it remind you that no matter what, I will always be your sister. And way deep down inside of me, my love for the KND will always remain. It will not seem that way. And in your reality, it will definitely not be that way. But no matter how much I fight you, there is no way in heaven or hell that I can truly hurt you. But, Abby, I permit you to hurt me. I want you to hurt me. I want you to kick my teenage butt down to the earth's core."_

"_But, Cree, you're my sister. I love you." I shook my head in confusion. "You're the best person in the world. I couldn't hurt you."_

"_Listen, Abby. You have too, you'll want to, and you will. I know you love me and I love you too. But some things don't last forever. I'm one of them." She stopped to look at the clock. "At twelve midnight tonight, I will change forever. When you wake up, I will not be the Cree you know. I will be someone different. Do not trust her. Do not believe her at all." She ushered me out of her room. "Go to bed, lock your doors and windows, and everything will be all right."_

_The next morning. She woke up. She didn't talk to me in secret language, she didn't greet me with tackling me like she used to, she didn't even listen to me when I asked her to help me with my drawings (tactics sketches)._

_"Cree!" I whined. "Can you please help me?"_

_And that's when she snapped._

"_No, I can't help you, you stupid kid. Gosh! You're so annoying. Stupid little Crabigail."_

_I started to cry. I ran. I ran all the way to Nigel's house, all the way to his backyard, all the way to the tree house. There I saw the decommissioning head and his new apprentice that I knew from training as Fanny Fulbright. _

_Fanny asked me with a fire in her eyes as red as her hair (and temper) "Where is she?"_

_I whimpered, "She's still at the house. You still have a chance to save her."_

_Maurice held me close and sat me down on the couch. "Abby, I'm sorry, but there really isn't any way for me to save her. Once she turned teen, she turned teen. We all will."_

_"BUT I DON'T WANT TO! I'LL STAY A KID FOREVER. I'LL DO IT!" I started having a temper tantrum._

_Maurice attempted to calm me down. "There was a way to save her, but she couldn't bear the risks. It's the way I'll choose. She's taking a different path. She'll forget the KND Abby. But she'll never forget that you're her sister."_

_"But you didn't hear her talk to Abby! You didn't hear her call Abby, Crabigail!"_

_"There's nothing we could do. I'm sorry."_

_The monitor blinked to life._

_"Sector V," addressed the decommissioning head, "we have a runner. Recon job. It's not going to be easy. It's-"_

_"I know who it is," interrupted Maurice, "She was my best friend. We'll handle this."_

_We couldn't handle it. She was too good. And I was too scared of fighting my sister._

_On the way home, I clutched my hat in fury. I held it close to me that night, I slept with it on, I ate with it on, I almost showered with it on. _

_Late that night, I peeked into Cree's room. I saw her there, sleeping like an Angel the way she looked at me. I cried my last tear for her. Tomorrow would show revenge._

Whenever I'd start missing her too much, I'd pull down my cap as a sign of refusal, using is as a symbol of a barrier of the old Cree protecting me. Whenever I'd face her in battle, I'd pull it down further in some strange hope of the night she gave it to me. Whenever I was in trouble, Cree would be there, protecting me through that hat of hers. I'm sorry to say that Cree no longer exists. And neither will I when my time comes.

That night, I missed the old Cree. I still do. I miss laughing with her. I used to look up to her so much, you know. She was the best person in the universe. She was better than Maurice, or Chad, or 362. And she was more than the best fighter, the best leader- She was my big sister.

**R & Ring keeps the story flowing… I'm sorry the ending was crappy. If you have any comments on how I can improve it. I'm willing to listen. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Numbuh 86

**Disclaimer: I don't own KND**

**AN: sorry I didn't update in a while. School's so hard! Ugh, I hate it. I'd rather be on the computer all day writing stories for you guys (and I actually do mean that). This was a little harder than Numbuh 5 because Numbuh 86's character is quite complex and there's no real mythology to go by. **

I look at the kid in the chair and sigh as I prepare to push the button. It's just not fair! It really isn't, but it's what must be done. We are Kids Next Door operatives and nothing- absolutely nothing- gets in the way of kicking teenage butt! Except maybe, when the teenage butt you're kicking is your _best friend_.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say next! Oh my gosh! Mean and crabby ole Numbuh 86 is being nice! Contrary to popular belief, I am a nice person. Yes, I am an active feminist and a pain in the arse and will continue to be so until the day I am decommissioned and forever longer. But that doesn't mean a girl can't have feelings, you know.

When they originally were in the process of selecting a new decommissioning officer, they had in mind the perfect person: Someone who would tolerate nothing, have no sentiments, no regrets, and had a strong sense of what was best for the greater picture. And back then, I fit those requirements perfectly. Back in my original field days, I was on fire, capturing teenager after teenager with no remorse whatsoever. And boy did I have that temper. I still do, but that temper's what got all those little junior operatives under me quaking in their shoes. Nothing could stop Fanny Fulbright, daughter of Mr. Boss.

But all of that changes when you decommission your friend. I mean, it's one thing decommissioning someone that lives halfway across the globe. but when you decommission someone who's been there for you every step of the way – it's hard, especially when her name is Emily. Emily was a dear friend of mine, a distant relative I believe actually. I remember when we were little, she used to baby-sit Abigail, Cree, Nigel, and me. And then she turned thirteen.

I spent weeks and weeks in an everlasting kid version of a PMS. It really messed me up. I spent hours on end yelling and shouting orders at junior officers. Many of my bosses said I'd finally cracked, but I still went on yelling and shouting. It earned me the reputation as an enforcer.

I'd spent every night in Numbuh 362's office talking to her, with her trying to console me. She was like a big sister to me. And there next door would always be Patton, banging on the wall, telling us to shut up about our cruddy girl stuff.

And then I made her cry.

I made Kuki Sanban cry.

And it was the worst day of my life.

I was given the part time job of training new recruits at the Arctic base while still doing decommissioning and there I met a new bunch- the future of Sectors X and V. I was still recovering from the Emily incident, and I always had the then Sector V at my side. So I was comfortable training those from that general area.

I remember first seeing said girl. She was a bit scrawny and her shirt was so large compared to her that it was able to cover her entire body, but I saw the twinkle in her eyes that defined her as a KND officer.

Then one day, I saw a boy making fun of her. He was a bit short with blonde hair and he was wearing an orange hoodie and jeans. He was saying "Stupid girl! Whad'ya do wrong now?"

I'd been having a bad day, and it was not getting any better. So, with a fuming face, I marched right up to them. I would've done everything right, except I'd done something very, very wrong.

"KUKI! GET UP! SHOW THAT STUPID BOY WHAT YOU'RE MADE OF AND DO NOT LET HIM BOSS YOU AROUND! DO YOU HEAR ME, GIRL? GET UP AND TELL HIM OFF! WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING ON THE GROUND? ARE YOU GOING TO START CRYING? ARE YA?" The girl was scared to death by my tone of voice and started bawling right in front of me, but I kept on yelling. "DON'T YOU CRY ON ME, GIRL! KND OPERATIVES DO NOT CRY! THEY SHOW NO EMO-" slap.

"Don't _eva_ lay a hand on any of mah friends, _lady_," came the well known Australian accent.

I took a breath in realization of what I'd just done. I'd made a little girl cry. I'd made a _little girl_ cry. I'd made a little girl _cry_.

Patton grabbed my elbow and led me to his office. We had a talk about self control.

"What was wrong back there?"

"I don't know."

"You've never acted like this before! I mean, you were always shouting at the boys, not the girls. Why now?" He smirked, "Have you finally realized that boys are better than girls."

This was not the time to joke.

"Oh, shut up, Patton! You don't' have to go through every day attempting to have no regrets, making sure your life is perfect so nothing can mess it up! It's hard when you're father it Mr. Friggin' Boss!" I gasped. That was the first time I'd told anybody. Not even Rachel and Emily knew.

"Oh." Was all he said. And he gave me a giant hug. But not to let go before I pushed him away, slightly smiling. We never said a word about this conversation after that.

The board let me off training bases for a while. They said I needed to recuperate. I thought I wouldn't be recuperating for a while. I was devastated. I had gone soft after that, but that also had been a mistake. Junior officers took advantage of my post to get free candy bits and more power. They took every opportune moment to make me be nice to them.

Then the board said I had to toughen up. They said that there was no one out there in the KND who was as good as me when it came to retrieving teenagers. If I didn't regain my attitude, I would lose my job and be decommissioned from the KND- even at this early age.

I couldn't bear for that to happen. So I put on a fake act of mean. After about a month, I got over the Kuki incident and became myself again, but I couldn't bear yelling at another operative ever again- recruit or not. But if I didn't I would lose my job. I just had to face it. And thus I hid my face in shame.

I let my hair fall down to my shoulders, parting it at the side so as to cover my eyes. I couldn't bear to look directly at anyone like that, as was and is my solution to the problem.

And so I stand here today, as I look at the kid in the chair and prepare to push the button. It's just not fair! It really isn't, but it's what must be done- even if it is your best friend. One last time, I look away. Goodbye Patton.

**And that's it for today! Next up will be Numbuh 274 and after that… remember the person from Chapter 1? You'll finally be able to realize who she is… and what she wants with the KND. And after that chapter is the final chapter in the series, which will feature … nah, it'd give away too much. Hope you enjoyed!**


	7. Numbuh 274

**Disclaimer: I don't own KND. Duh.**

**AN: I WILL DEFY! There are a buhmillion KND fics out there that are never finished and suck quite nicely from what I've been reading in the forums. Well, I WILL finish this one. And I will not start or continue any fanfics henceforth until the day I finish THIS ONE!**

I stood in the alleyway beside The Torrent, the new Father sponsored teen club, and took a long drag of my newly lit cigarette. Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking: Chad! You're a bad boy! You shouldn't be smoking. You have football practice, and a life to look forward to, I can't let you do this to yourself! Or at least, that's what you'd think if your name happened to be Mega-Mom.

Then again, if you're name is Chad, you don't really care. Especially since it's midnight on a Saturday. Who cares about the future? I'll die anyway. Oh, there I go again, being all morbid and stuff. Mother'd kill me. Then again, I am quite the apathetic. I shifted my blue eyes to the left and right under the cover of my bangs. Ugh! I hate that habit. Stupid Kids Next Door! Then again…. Nah, it's not even worth it. I'd quit the Teen Ninjas three months ago and people have stopped speaking to me. I almost wish I could turn myself in to ole Fanny and forget everything I've ever done in my past. Cuz it's a calming sense being blinded by the world, ya know. I believe the phrase is "Ignorance is bliss." But no that would mean I'd forget Cree and Maurice.

You see, Cree and Maurice were my best friends ever. They were like older siblings to me. When I was sent from advanced Moonbase training to Sector V, they welcomed me with welcome arms full of candy. We'd went through so much together, and then there was that simple promise.

_Flashback_

"_So, Cree, what's going to happen when we're out of the KND, cuz ya know it's gonna happen?" I asked._

_She then blurted that unforgettable fate, "Well, we forget. They make us forget. Everything."_

"_But what about friendships and the harmony of a social life?" Maurice had always been the smart talker._

"_That's why people run away and elude the KND. Unfortunately, most of those teens end up working for Father." She said with a hiss._

_And all this time I sat there in awe thinking of a single word: Forget._

"_You guys promise you'll never forget me?" I inquired. I was still young and naïve then, not willing to face consequences. _

_Cree and Maurice stared at me with unwilling eyes, but then Maurice said, "Never forget you in my lifetime." And Cree followed with, "I'll always remember."_

And boy, did we never forget.

The day Cree first ran away, I never even attempted to stop her. I left all that up to Numbuh 100 and Fanny. Ha! Fanny, such a silly name for a silly girl. Then again, it suits her personality. But I'm getting way off track. I knew Cree never wanted to forget, but I didn't know that the repercussions would seriously crap things up.

And then there was Maurice. I just stood there at his decommissioning. No tears, no regrets; he simply decided to go along. And though I was sad he left, I had nothing to do with it. I was already forming my own plans.

And then I ran away. I turned evil and ran away to the Teen Ninjas. And that's when I met Cree.

I remember my talk with Cree earlier in the night. It was strange on indeed. And one of the few since I ran off. It was going great at first, just chilling and dancing like normal teenagers do. And then it got serious.

_Flashback_

_Cree was stirring the contents of her Virgin Daiquiri absentmindedly and she looked totally zoned out. _

"_Hey, Cree, 'sup? You totally blanked there." _

_Then she simply lifted her head up and asked me, "Have you ever regretted anything you've done in the past?"_

_For a while I couldn't answer that. I had to stop and think for a couple minutes. I just stared straight out in the air and said the word "Everything."_

"_Everything?"_

"_Everything."_

"_Why is regret so hard?"_

"_It's that simple feeling of guilt, not regret, that drives us to madness, Cree. You're sorry for hurting Abigail aren't you?"_

"_And you're simply sorry for never forgetting."_

"_No, I'm sorry only Maurice was lucky enough to forget.'_

"_I miss him. I know I spend a lot of time with him, but he's not the same passionate Maurice we knew as a kid. Now, he's just another teen down the block from my house. Just like every other teen."_

"_But we're not. We're more than every other teen, simply because we remember."_

"_And now I wish I didn't."_

Cree left me after that, said her curfew was due since she's on parole at home. I guess all I have to do now (and for the rest of my life) is keep cool. But still, life sucks. I think I'm gonna blow this dirtbag and sneak over to the Treehouse, work up some fun. It'll be like old times. And isn't that what I always wanted?

**2 more character chapters to go! Whoohoo! I think I'm going to switch the order to Numbuh 3's and then the mystery speakers… so watch out. I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever. I got grounded and well… yeah. Have a nice Day!**


	8. Numbuh 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own KND**

**A/N: Yay! Another update! I have to make it up to you guys for the elongated wait. So here you are- a fairly short piece, but it just seems that the others were way too long…**

My name is Kuki Sanban and I have no regrets. Truly, I don't. For a girl my age, that must sound so unfamiliar. As often, we are moody and very sensitive. Thankfully, I've retained my childlike state of mind and have attempted a joyful and carefree world of bliss.

Attempted.

With my eyes wide open (as far as an Asian's can go. Haha.), I see the world in its entirety simply choosing optimism. I differentiate good from bad and have seen and do know what is evil. I see death, life, sorrow, elation, and all things in my midst. But what I realize, apart from others, is that we need this balance to survive. How can you know the true value of happiness if you've never known the extent of sad? How can you appreciate life without taking things for granted unless you lose them?

I believe at this moment you may be wondering: How is all this coming from a ditz? The truth is, I'm not. As I've stated before, it is my optimism and extreme emotional fulfillment that keep me in my mannerisms. It is simply my choice that I feel Apathy just isn't my thing.

But quite frankly, sometimes it sucks.

My energy burns out really fast and my hormones go haywire. The extremities wear me out and everything is blown out of proportion. Numbuh 1 is afraid I'll go too far on the deep side one day and go insane, or worse a teenage state he calls "emo." And what hurts normally to you, hurts crazily for me. And what's supposed to feel simply happy inside crashes down harder since as kids, we cannot help, but fall.

And my friends hate that. They loathe falling: Nigel from trust; Hoagie from embarrassment; Wally from his standards; Abby from hope; Fanny from herself; and Chad from his past. Each has moments where they regret what they could've, should've, and wish they hadn't done.

And I can only hope that maybe my friends will look up from their masks of fear and see the sunlight.

**A/N: singing Reviewing makes the world go round! Tadah! end song reviews are loved and cherished by all **


	9. The Reason

**Okay… it's the last chapter. Sorry, guys. I've just been so busy over finals and christmas break and MAJOR writer's block. But no worries now! I finally finished it! I want to thank everyone who's reviewed and I wish I could give them lots of candy and chocolate, but alas, my dear readers. I am broke.**

When taking school pictures, the photographer always asks me, "Hey, kid, can you move your bangs for me. I want to see your pretty eyes." I roll my eyes in contempt and do as he says, just to get it over with. Right afterwards, my friends would ask me why I hide my eyes so much. They say they are very pretty. I reply with an, "I dunno" and get on with my life. 'Cause, honestly, I really don't know.

I guess it's a kind of rightful tradition I have. After all, in all my school pictures from my second grade to this year's eighth grade picture I have had my bangs roughly cover my eyes. My mother always said to me it just was my style: full of mystery and the radness of my hardcore aura. And then she would pinch my cheek and say I was so cute—yeah, totally defeating the essence of her previous words.

Now, I guess one could say things have changed in my hiding eye purposes: Cause it looks sexy. I mean honestly, How would Chad Dickson in the adjoining high school have ever noticed me if I didn't look that way? Side bangs covering my eyes in an illusion of apathy—typical teenage form. But… it's just that hiding my eyes doesn't seem right. As if I was hiding myself from my confidence, but I don't really understand how that could happen. I'm quite confident in my abilities as a leader. Wait, as a leader of what?

I'm sorry, I've been thinking a lot. I had to do this project on a certain feature of the human body as an embodiment of the soul for my Honors History Class. I chose Eyes. I submitted it last week, but Mr. Henry said that "it wasn't the purpose of the project. It's not science class, it's behavioral structure." He'd also said he'd give me another chance, but if I didn't get at least a B+, he'd keep my original grade. And now I have to do another ten-page report on the subject. Ugh. I hate teachers. Let's see what I've got so far.

* * *

Eyes, definition courtesy of Webster online, being "a specialized light-sensitive sensory structure of animals that in nearly all vertebrates, most arthropods, and some mollusks is the image-forming organ of sight ; _especially_ the nearly spherical usually paired hollow organ of sight in vertebrates that is filled with a jellylike material, is lined with a photosensitive retina, and is lodged in a bony orbit in the skull." The purpose of the eye is to process the information concerning our surroundings to the brain to further process what purpose our surroundings reveal.

* * *

Ugh. This is disgustingly formal. The embodiment of the soul… it sounds like some Middle Eastern Guru lecture or a weekend in Berkley, CA. What do the eyes mean to me?

Maybe I should go through the day blind. Yeah! It's a Saturday. My parents still work on Saturdays (my dad's a pilot and my mom's an accountant), and my brother is playing that stupid KND game with his friends. I'll have the entire house to myself and no one will be here to bother me.

Crash!

Ow. I think I stumbled upon a piece of reality my brain did not have the ability to process since my eyes weren't capable. Maybe I should put that in my report. "The loss of the eyes permits a lack of control and valuable information."

Hold the phone… what's this. It's one of my old albums. I thought I gave all of these to my brother. Well, since I'm not doing anything really important, I think I'll have a look at this.

I flipped the pages of the album, only to find people I didn't recognize. I mean, I knew them from school, sure. They were sixth graders and seventh graders mainly, though I recognized one as an eighth grader. But they all had one thing in common: their eyes were covered. How profound of me to notice that. Maybe if I had checked their behavior patterns, the symbolic loss of the eye could mean something to me. Unfortunately, it's the weekend. And the report's due Monday.

I don't know why I don't recognize these people. I guess I just… I don't know. Maybe I can guess their personalities by their reactions in the book. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

I started flipping the pages, noting that the guy with the sunglasses always had that cold, hard, glorified leader like stare about him, showing all the confidence in the world, not only in himself, but in his friends. And that the guy with the goggles was always so cheerful and happy. He was so grateful for life, but somewhat ashamed of himself. Was it his nerdiness? His size? I'll never know. And then there's that short boy with the orange sweatshirt. He looked like he could fight the world, and win too. He showed determination. And then there was that redhead. She, like the Orange sweatshirt boy, was ready to fight the world, except, this girl might just be willing to dominate it too. And then there was the chocolate skinned girl. I think she's Cree's sister. I've seen her around. She's very calm and cool, very mellow. But she wants to run from something. What? Herself? And then there's that Japanese girl. She seems so carefree. I remember her from the cheerleading squad. She's always so bubbly. She's so pure.

And then I saw Chad. I didn't know I knew him from when I was a kid! He looked so happy, and yet so concerned. There he was, hanging with Cree and Maurice. They're all best friends. But they've been through some rough patches lately. They have some bad history that they just can't seem to forget, or even accept ever happened. It makes me feel like I want to help, and Chad knows I do. And every time we talk about this, he dies to tell me. But I know he can't. Why? I don't know.

How did I notice all these things just by a couple pictures? I guess the way you flaunt your eyes really shows who you are. I once read that true eye contact is one of the most intimate moments a person can have. I laughed at a few of the candids? There were so many pictures of candy fights and water guns. It was like a giant festival. But these emotions were only shown through the objects that hide the eyes. What more if I saw them. I flipped through more of the photos and saw that the eyes began to gradually peek out a little more at a time. Almost as if they were ready to experience the world.

And then I flipped the page, and realized that Chad was gone. The eyes receded. And even I, happy and honored as I looked in the pictures, realized that I had been… hurt? Betrayed? By Chad? What? I was confused.

I was about to call Chad when the phone rang. I asked who it was. The speaker said it was Chad. I was relieved. I was about to tell him of my findings, but he said it was urgent. I decided to bring the album and ran to meet him at the café nearby the school.

* * *

When I got there. I was completely astonished. It was Chad. And he was sad. Don't get me wrong. We've been through hard times before. But this time… he was going to lose himself. And then I looked around. The people… from the pictures… they were here… It just wasn't possible. I was crying to Chad about what was going on, but he told me to sit down and he would explain it all to me.

It turns out, that the game by brother plays with his friends is real. And when I was a kid, I was a part of it. Not only was I a part of it, but I was the Supreme Commander of Global KND. I was the head of an organization large enough to threaten most countries worldwide. I was in charge of the world''s future.

Then the boy with the sunglasses stepped in. "I see you have already found most of that out." He motioned to the album I was holding.

I tried to explain. But I couldn't. It seemed that these memories were held sacred to these kids, including Chad. "Ummm… I was working on my report on the spiritual embodiment of eyes… when I stumbled blindfolded… that sounds so lame… but… and then, I saw Chad in there… and you too! I had no clue what was going on… I promise!"

"It's okay, Rachel. We understand. But Chad invited you here to tell you something very important," said the boy in goggles.

"Didn't he already?"

Chad looked up from his misery, "No. I didn't. What I needed to tell you is that I am getting decommissioned. After today. I will have no memories of Cree, Maurice, or the KND. And because you were once a part of it and could be a secret TND agent behind my back, I will forget you. And my parents are sending me to boarding school in Los Angeles to ensure this fact."

I tried to protest, "but our memories? Our lives? Why can't you live through this?"

"I don't think you could handle some of the things I've done as a teen ninja. I quit that life to get away from it, but with you and Cree and Maurice… it's going to stay forever. I'm sorry, Rachel."

The redhead vanished with Chad into the backroom and I could hear the sound of a rocket coursing into space.

I sat there stunned. It was over so suddenly. It wasn't even as if Chad was even gone. He was still here, in Cleveland. It didn't make sense in my head. The gang sat around the table with me. Attempting to console me, but knowing their place as "inferior kids," dared not say a word. But this did come out that made me rethink Chad's motive:

"We didn't force him to do this, Rachel. He came to us." I looked up at the speaker. It was the girl in the red cap. "He asked a favor of Fanny when you were with the girls during lunch period. He wanted to tell you personally, and we're not allowed to speak to you anyways." She paused as if confused by her own words. Then, with a bit of confidence, looked up again and smirked, "You're not the only one with this problem. I have Cree."

The sunglasses boy stepped in as if proudly ashamed."I have my dad and leadership."

And then slowly, they all began to cheer me up.

"I don't have my dad."

"I have my anger."

"I have nothing to fear."

The last speaker said it with all the hope the world could ever muster. And she looked around the room, not speaking a word, but softly, ever so softly saying, "and so does everyone else"

I finally realized what these kids have come to mean. And I believed them. They then told me that I could keep my memories of this day, but swore never to speak of them. This meeting was hardly even legal by their standards. It was helping an old friend that got them to do it.

When Chad came back, he wasn't Chad anymore. He was cool and slick. His hair was spiked instead of swept to his eyes. And he had no idea where he was. His eyes though, were completely devoid, in a trail of teenage apathy. The emotions began to confuse me again, bursting my small bubble of a utopia with this group, now trapped in that frame of time. And I ran home.

* * *

When taking school pictures, the photographer always asks me, "Hey, kid, can you move your bangs for me. I want to see your pretty eyes." I roll my eyes in contempt and do as he says, just to get it over with. Right afterwards, my friends would ask me why I hide my eyes so much. They say they are very pretty. I reply with an, "I dunno" and get on with my life. Because, honestly,

I hated the fact that I knew.

* * *

Eyes, definition courtesy of Webster online, being "a specialized light-sensitive sensory structure of animals that in nearly all vertebrates, most arthropods, and some mollusks is the image-forming organ of sight ; _especially_ the nearly spherical usually paired hollow organ of sight in vertebrates that is filled with a jellylike material, is lined with a photosensitive retina, and is lodged in a bony orbit in the skull." The purpose of the eye is to process the information concerning our surroundings to the brain to further process what purpose our surroundings reveal.

But the spiritual purpose of the eye is not to process the information, but more of a screen to the information. The eye tells us all of the emotion hidden within the brain. Like a two way street, not only can the eye receive the data from the reality and fabric of the universe, but also sends the universe back to whatever object it pleases. A prolonged eye contact can usually lead to a state of nirvana through meditation or the intimate knowledge of the person you so happen to share your gateway with.

Concerning life in the general public. The eye as seen as something shameful, as it holds such emotion. Hence, the coming fads of side bangs, emo bangs, messy layered hair, and large sunglasses. In truth, eyes should be very important in society as they hold truth. In a society where truth is revered, why should it not be displayed regally, instead of hidden behind style and beauty? They beauty is not in the eye of the beholder. It is the eye in which the beholder carries his or her own true beauty and sends his thoughts to the world. They eye is the way in which we can be heard, quoted, and felt best. To speak, we must first see.

Rachel Shea A+


End file.
